


Tucker-ish Law

by Basicallyitstheeyebrows



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Emotions, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Retelling, Slow Burn, Smut, lots of bantering, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basicallyitstheeyebrows/pseuds/Basicallyitstheeyebrows
Summary: We all know the story. It is as old as time, but is it really? I am going to retell the story of The Thick of it but out of Sam's perspective and her relationship with the one and only Malcolm Tucker.





	1. Episode 1 Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to my story. Basically it’s all about Malcom Tucker and his personal assistant Sam. The idea for this story came, when I decided to re-watch „The Thick of It” properly because the first time around I just skipped to the parts with Peter Capaldi. I know, kind of lazy but trust me, it’s not the easiest series out there for someone, who’s first language isn’t English. ;)
> 
> Nevertheless, I decided to give it another shot. Watching the whole series again is like a personal journey, which I enjoy very much but for me there are some romantic bits and pieces of my favourite character missing. So I thought, why not include that in my own story? After every episode I will write a chapter out of Sam’s perspective and we’ll see how it goes. Sadly, the characters and some of the dialogue does not belong to me.
> 
> Like already mentioned please consider for the rest: English is not my first language and I’m sure there will be loads of mistakes.  
> Anyway I hope you enjoy my little tale.

The whole day was damned from the start. Not only had Sam’s coffee machine denied its services this morning, she also had to deal with her insufferable neighbour, who should actually win a price for “worst-time-for-asking-somebody-out-ever”, and a careless driver, who drove past her a little too close. Due to him and the heavy rain last night, which fortunately stopped but left some huge puddles, she reached the office completely drenched. On the way to her desk the bureau seemed to buzz with excitement and something else she couldn’t quite point her finger on. She decided to simply ignore the tension in the air because without her morning coffee she was way too tired to think about anything.

Before she could sit and calm down a bit, Terri stormed into the small room. She was out of breath and seemed to be quite nervous, which led Sam to only one conclusion. 

“Please don’t tell me, Tucker is here…just…don’t.”

“Well, he will be in some minu…” She stopped in the middle of the sentence and looked at her bewildered. “What’s the matter with your clothes?”

“I know, I know…I’m sorry. There was this car and…”

“I don’t give a damn. Just change. NOW.” Terri turned around again and left in a hurry.

“Tell me something I don’t know”, Sam muttered to herself while looking for her emergency outfit. After she found it she rushed to the toilets, changed into her fresh skirt and blouse and wanted to leave immediately, but a short glance in the mirror stopped her. God, she looked terrible! Her hair was dripping wet, the mascara trickled away on her cheeks and under her eyes were deep shadows. Hectically she cleaned her skin with some water and tied her hair back. Being sort of presentable again she looked at her mirror-self one more time, breathed in and out, calmed herself down. She reminded herself that this was just another day at work. Whatever happened she would manage…somehow. She always did. 

“Where the fuck are you, Sam?”, Terri screamed from outside.

“Coming!”, she said surprisingly calm back while leaving the toilets and meeting Terri. 

“Here’s what you missed during your ridiculously long beauty session: Malcolm is already waiting in the minister’s office. He seems to be…well, he was shouting at some bloke at the phone, so I have no idea how he is and what he is here for.” Terri whispered to her like she was afraid Malcolm could hear her through the two rooms, that were currently separating them.

“You know, that you don’t have to whisper, right?”

Terri gave her a baffled look before she shooed her through the hallway to her desk.

After a couple minutes of sitting, starting the computer, opening her files and arranging her working space, she suddenly got startled by an especially loud scream from Tucker in the other room. Whoever was on the other line, he or she certainly had an even worse start than she had so far. 

Funny thing she noticed just now as she listened to Tucker’s bollocking voice, she had never met the man, not until today at least. She knew him of course. He was hard to miss, when you worked for the government. Due to the fact that she had slowly worked her way up and quite recently became the new secretary of the minister for social affairs she had only heard about him. Not really good things. More bad things. Mainly bad things. 

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! He’s useless, absolutely useless. He is, he is as useless as a marzipan dildo! Even a marzipan dildo is more useful than he is.” 

Interesting…that was really some interesting language going on there. Perhaps because it also came with a quite memorable voice. Deep, firm and certain of itself, maybe a bit too certain, borderline to arrogant. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a stressed minister running into her office accompanied by an even more stressed Terri. 

“Have you got him coffee? No? Oh, for Christ’s sake…get coffee, get Danish pastries, croissant...no, get fruit, get a pile of fruit, lots of fruit and lots of coffee. Now.” 

While the minister disappeared in his office, Sam jumped from her seat and rushed to the kitchen. The look of reproach Terri gave her she deliberately ignored. 

Ten minutes later she returned with her famous coffee and tea, which both no one could make quite like her and a plate with all the fruit she was able to find. After taking a deep breath she pushed the door open with her shoulder and entered smiling.

“Would you like some coffee or frui…?” Sam was interrupted before she could even finish her sentence.

“Fuck off!”, the grey-haired man beside her said, not turning his head, attention fully on the minister.

“Tea?”, she asked further, still smiling, but demanding at least some proper reaction from the infamous Malcolm Tucker. Obviously that did the trick. Eventually he looked at her, slightly unnerved but still sort of friendly with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You fuck off, Darling.” 

Great! Sam loved the guy already. 

“Coffee it is then!”, she said a tad bit too friendly. Sure, he was the almighty director of communications and she just one secretary of many, but she surely didn’t spend five years at university and completed her PhD to be treated like a bloody waitress. With ostentation she put the coffee down.

“You got a feisty one there, haven’t you? Who is she?”

The minister just looked perplexed from Sam to Malcolm. He hasn’t known his new secretary for very long, but she always seemed to be a very efficient, responsible and quiet young woman. Today of all days she had to act like a defiant girl, who looked not awful but also not as pretty as usual. Then again, her partially wet hair tied back, the contour of her soft curves underneath the thin blouse and the pencil skirt…this was definitely going too far…again. 

“Hello? Anybody there? Oh no, fucking fuck me! Really? You want to bang the new one too as the first one wasn’t fucking enough? Do us all a favour, and take your cock for a walk in some fucked up private session or whatever. But please look for some cunt on your level, someone you can handle, because you surely can’t handle her.”

“You know that I am still in the same room, right?” Sam asked irritated. 

“You didn’t really get the first two ‘Fuck offs’ so I thought you suffered from some sort of fucking hearing impairment.” Malcom retorted, while he was greatly amused by this little woman. 

The positively embarrassed minister cleared his throat, but Sam cut him short.

“Well, you obviously know how to charm a woman, don’t you?” She crossed her arms and smiled sarcastically. Meanwhile her mind was running amok. What exactly was she thinking? She really wasn’t the one who liked to fight, especially not with someone who could ruin her career with one snap of his irritating long fingers. 

The minister looked perplexed at Sam.

Tucker, now smiling dangerously, stepped closer and crossed her personal space. Probably his tactic to scare people, Sam thought. He stared down at her, as he was much taller than her, before he bent forward to whisper very quietly into her ear. “You can count on it, sweetheart.” 

Yep, man with an enormous ego! She was right from the beginning. 

“Good luck then, Mr. Tucker, and enjoy your coffee.” With a last smile she finally left the room and closed the door behind her. 

After sitting at her table again she really didn’t know what had happened. Was she really just teasing the infamous Malcolm Tucker? Why on earth should she do something crazy like that? Shaking her head, she dismissed the whole situation and decided to concentrate on her work again. However, Terri suddenly rushed into the room.

“What the hell, Sam? Are you completely out of you mind?”

“Wow, I see. Word is travelling fast here.” 

“What in seven hells possessed you to challenge the devil himself?” 

“Ok, first of all, he is certainly not the devil. And secondly, I didn’t challenge him, I just wanted to make clear that I’d very much prefer to be treated like an actual human being.”

Terri just starred at her furiously. 

“Tread carefully. You’re stepping on very thin ice.”

Sam groaned, before she answered. “Yeah, alright, got it. Don’t challenge the beast. Happy now?”

Her colleague watched her for a full minute, before she left again. Well, Monday morning seemed to be a quiet promising start, Sam thought dryly. The day couldn’t get much worse, or at least that’s what she thought till the shouting started.


	2. Episode 1 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your encouraging comments. Here is the new chapter. Again, sadly, some of the dialog isn't mine but at least the rest is. Hopefully you will enjoy!

The shouting sounded quite strange really. An awful lot of “should” was mentioned like “Oh right; we shouldn’t really…I mean you shouldn’t have really told us to…should you?” and the answer: “Don’t should me here cause I should you right back. I should you right through that window. None of this SHOULD be happening, should it? SHOULD it? Should it?”  
“Is this should in a sense of yes?”  
“It’s a should in a sense of you should do as you’re fucking told!” 

Sam didn’t really get this conversation but it was none of her business so she decided to just smile about the ridiculousness of it. A couple of minutes later Tucker stormed out of the minister’s office, a bit like a madman, Sam had to admit to herself. Terri was at her desk not long after and explained everything to her in an awkward staccato: “The PM and Malcom decided the minister has to go.” 

Sam’s jaw dropped: “What?”

“Really, it’s not that hard to understand. The minister appeared to be weak, now he has to go, but he has to do it for personal reasons, not because of press pressure. But he has to say, he is jumping before he is pushed although we were going to push him not because of press pressure but because of his deeply health or whatever personal issues. Everything clear?”

“I guess?” Sam asked confused.

“Anyway you remember the snooper force?”

“The one he suggested in the first place and then got rid of this morning in front of every news camera there is?”

“Exactly, now the PM is backing the snooper force and he has to reverse his position.”

“Wait a second, that’s gonna be quit hard really?”

Terri rolled with her eyes: “It is not. The announcement that he didn’t make today, he did. Easy.”

“That’s it? And then he resigns, the government keeps a clean sheet and he is the moron of the whole nation?” Even working for the government for one year now she was still surprised by the low level they were operating on. Why she was so bitter about the situation? If the minister went, she would go too, because a new minister often looked for a completely new secretary.

“Amazing!” Sam leaped to her feet and walked past Terri without listening any longer to her high pitched voice. After she checked the kitchen for people she let herself drop on one of the chairs. Her face she buried in her hands. Obviously that was it. She had spent a full year for absolutely nothing. All her efforts gone to waste from one minute to another. 

“Everything alright?”, a soft voice asked her suddenly.

Sam looked up at Ollie who watched her with concern. 

“Thanks, Ollie, honestly, but I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” Ollie has always been nice to her, so he was one of the few colleagues she actually liked, at least a little.

“Ok, sure. No problem. So…change of subject, my ex-girlfriend is coming back, you know, Angela, who works at the newspaper, so I can correct the story that the snooper force is sort of happening again.”

“And now you’re worried she will be pissed because you first leaked to her, it won’t be happening?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” Ollie slouched his shoulders, before sinking into a chair opposite her. He seemed to be tired and exhausted. Even when today was her last day as secretary of the social minister, she wanted to at least succeed in her other role. The one, where she tried to help people, sometimes with more, sometimes with less success. 

“Listen, I can only tell you, she won’t be happy. She will feel used and probably threaten to write something not very pretty. You can only try your best, behave honestly and hope she will calm down one way or another.”

“Thanks, Sam”, he said before they both fell silent. Outside the office seemed to burst with excitement and uproar, but in the small kitchen they both dwelled on their own thoughts. At least until an unhappy Terri came and screamed at both of them for not working their asses off. 

Back at her desk Sam tried to answer as many mails as she could and to get hold of the constant calls of every single press company, who wanted to get an exclusive statement of the minister himself. Suddenly the man of the hour appeared before her. He looked miserable and broken, something that happened way too often in this line of business. 

“I’m sorry, Ms Cassidy. I really am, but you never know what the next day brings. I’m certain a beautiful, young and witty woman like you will get a new job in no time.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Sir. I’m sure the press will calm down eventually and find a new victim they can mangle. Don’t worry too much.” 

“You are probably right. After the whole affair has passed, maybe we can grab a drink together? To cherish the good old times?”

Sam rolled inwardly her eyes. Why on earth did she always feel the need to be friendly? Couldn’t she bite on her tongue for once, when she felt the need to say such rubbish? She has known the minister for some months now, and she always avoided his advances quite successfully. She should have known that one friendly sentence would ignite new ideas on his side, but as face palming wasn’t really an option at the moment, she had to do something else. 

“Well, your offer charms me but sadly I’m neither a great cherisher of the good old times nor do I like to ‘grab’ a drink. Though I’m pretty sure your wife will be very happy to see you regularly now. Perhaps you should invite her to that posh little Italian restaurant you once suggested to me. She certainly will be thrilled.”

The minister stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, but before he could reply she decided to leave. “If you excuse me, I really need to get a hold of Angela.” 

With a smug smile, she walked passed him to the lift in order to catch some fresh air. Outside the building dozens of press people were waiting, but Sam was heading for the small courtyard anyway. A few colleagues stood around smoking their cigarettes. Luckily they didn’t pay any attention to her. Slowly she walked to one of the benches offside and sat down. It was neither a particularly pretty spot nor one of these dreamy benches out of some corny romance novel. No plants, no trees, just cold cement. Actually it kind of portrayed her actual situation perfectly. The time for dreams was over. The cold reality has quickly caught up with her. One-day secretary of the minister for social affairs and the next day on the dole. Right, perhaps she got a little melodramatic there, but still she was too old to believe in fate or even luck. Work was the only currency which had brought her here. With a sigh she closed her eyes and thought of the many trash novels she had read as a teenager. If she lived in one of them, her future husband would come right in this moment and help her out of this miserable situation. Silently she waited for couple of seconds, listening to the muffled voices of her colleagues, but nothing happened. No ideal man or helping hand appeared. Shaking her head she opened her eyes again and returned to the office. 

As soon as Ollie saw her, he rushed to her. “Angela is here. Tucker also just got here again. Lord knows, where he has been the last couple of hours. Anyway he wants me to talk with her alone because of our whole past relationship story. Sam, please, help me. I can’t do this alone.” 

Sam didn’t even need to overthink her answer. “Of course, I can’t really lose anything anymore, can I?” She laughed and followed him through the building to the conference room, where a young, attractive woman, presumably Angela, was already sitting. 

“Hello, I’m Sam Cassidy, secretary of the minister for social affairs. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you too.” She paused a bit irritated.

“Ollie and you already know each other, I suppose”, Sam kindly continued, “but let’s get to the point. Ollie, what did you want to tell Angela?” 

He awkwardly sat down and gaped at Angela, then at Sam, before he looked back at Angela. “Right, well, I’m really glad you came in on such short notice.”

“Well, I could lose my job, Ollie. Because I went all hot and heavy to the news desk with three directly contradictory stories in one day. Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do a big story on the day of spin? Inside story of the government department out of control? With diagrams and maybe a flow chart with your face and name on it, with big arrows showing who spoke to who and how you all fucked it up. Yeah, I think I could write that by myself.”

Ollie was just stammering “no’s” and other incomprehensible words, but Angela continued talking, getting louder and louder, showing how pissed off she really was. 

“And by the way you didn’t need to bring your new girlfriend to protect you like a watchdog.”

Sam wasn’t really interested in the part where Angela tried to attack Ollie and herself personally, more in what she threatened to do. “So do you really think doing a big story on the day of spin is a good idea for your career? Just saying.”, she very calmly replied. 

Ollie suddenly gave her a little punch with his foot under the table, his eyes at the door. There he stood again, Malcolm Tucker himself, observing the whole situation, mainly fixating Ollie and Angela. 

“Hi, lovely to see you again, Angela. Did you do something with your hair? You look amazing today. What’s going on by the way?” He expectantly looked at Ollie.

“Well, we were talking about why Angela shouldn’t do a big story on the big insidery-piece-kind-of-a-day-of-spin-sort-of-spread-in-the-paper.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you should, good idea.” He walked out of the room while all three of them looked after him, not quite believing what just had happened, but soon he turned around again with weird snipping fingers. 

“Oh, wait a minute, otherwise, she shouldn’t. Because you know if she did that, she’d be dead, to me, to this department, to the government and she’d never get another story or fucking whiff of a story so long as she kept her sorry hag bitch face lingering around Westminster because I would call every editor I know which obviously adds all of them and I tell them to scratch out her name of their address books so she never even get a job on hospital radio where the sad sack belongs. That’s what I’d tell her.” Meanwhile he was threatening her not only with words, but also with direct eye contact and leaning over the desk. Suddenly he turned around again back to Ollie and said with the calmest voice and most relaxed face ever: “…but maybe you should do it. See ya later.” 

Sam couldn’t quite believe what she just saw, while Angela seemed to be properly frightened. Ollie remained astoundingly calm: “He is actually…he can be really nice. It’s just been a very long day.” 

They all fell silent, when suddenly Tucker appeared once more for a brief second.

“You…” he pointed right at Sam, “…with me.” 

Sam followed him out of the room but instead of stopping and actually talking to her, he went through the whole office, till he abruptly turned right. She nearly collided with him because of his jerky movements. With his owl like eyes he tried to face her down, or at least that’s what it felt like. She didn’t really feel as confident and sure of herself as during their first conversation in the morning. Perhaps it was the small protected corner they were standing in or the fact, he was not speaking like a madman for once. Actually he just stared at her bluntly. After what felt like an eternity he finally spoke. 

“So, you’re the highly recommended Ms. Cassidy, owner of a PhD in English Literature, for whatever pointless reason, shortly working for a publisher, fucking useless business, if you ask me, suddenly changing career, starting to work for the government, clearly a sign of being totally nuts, and not very long the new secretary of our mutual friend, the ex-minister for social affairs. Famous coffee and tea brewer, fan of books, obviously, not so much of dishonesty, organised, headstrong, cat owner, but most importantly, you have a pretty clean slate, which is fucking rare in this office.”

Sam was lost. Did he really dig all that up? For what exactly? To humiliate her and her life? To get back at her? This monologue was just utterly unbelievable. 

“Right…Mr. Tucker, you obviously have been studying very hard to improve your charming skills since the morning.” With one raised eyebrow she looked him right in the eye. 

“Haven’t I? I think I fucking have. Brilliant, isn’t it? Perhaps I should try my luck with the hearing impaired people. I kind of have a soft spot for them, you know?” 

Ok, he had insulted her and now he was in his own weird way nice again? Whatever, she thought, and didn’t fight the small smile, that was growing on her lips.

“Oh, fucking fuck me, a smile. Don’t give this old man a heart attack. I still need to bollock way too many people today.” 

Sam really had to stop this. What was his ultimate aim here?  
“Mr. Tucker, seriously, why did you want to talk with me? Surely not to give me a more or less complete resume about myself?” 

She has just met him today, but she has heard enough about him before, to know, that the sudden change in his demeanour was unusual for the notorious Malcolm Tucker. In the twinkling of an eye he seemed to be…somehow insecure. That changed again, covered up by a certain arrogance in his expression. 

“As far as I know you are currently unemployed. I need a fucking new secretary because the last one was a cunt, who had thought, she could fuck me over behind my back. Now the slag is where she belongs, in a fucking institution called “Don’t-fuck-Malcolm-Tucker-over-or-he-will-find-destroy-and-kill-you”.” His dead serious face was quite alarming, but he suddenly got all smiley again. Sam couldn’t decide, if she was more or less afraid of this side of him.  
“So, interested?”

Sam cleared her throat. “You mean interested in working for you as your new secretary?”

“Of course. And here I thought, you weren’t hearing impaired. Seems I was wrong.”

“Alright, but there are some conditions.”  
Did she just say alright to that loony?

“Conditions? Juicy. Continue…” 

“Firstly, your treat me with respect. Secondly, you don’t call me any offensive names and thirdly, you stop with this hearing impaired nonsense.”

“That’s all? Way too easy. It's like walking down the fucking yellow brick road.”

“You know “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz”?” 

“Please, I’m not a stupid fuckwit.”

“So is this a yes?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.”

“Great”, Sam said.

“Great”, Malcolm answered. 

When Sam got home in the evening she couldn’t quite believe, what had happened today. Was she really working for Malcolm Tucker now, director of communications? As odd as it sounded, but she felt quite relieved to actually have a new, even better job again. What could possibly go wrong? Even if he was insufferable, she would somehow manage…at least that’s what she hoped for.


	3. Interlude: Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind feedback and sorry for the long break. Like usual life came in between but finally, here's a very short "inbetween" chapter before we jump into the second episode. :)

Friday evenings were always the worst. Since she has begun working for Tucker a month ago she felt like shit at the end of the week. The endless meetings, the annoying phone calls, the malicious colleagues, the numberless mails, the long days and the short nights. Especially the lack of sleep drove her crazy but she has learnt to survive with a couple of hours every night. She didn't really have any other choice then to make the best of her new life. And admittedly, it wasn't all bad. Most of the time she quite enjoyed her job and she even came to terms with the infamous Malcolm Tucker. Most of her colleagues had given her a week. Now a whole month has passed and she was still working for him. Of course she had some doubts at first because Tucker was a force to be reckoned with, but they actually have gotten along rather well from the start. He has stuck to their bargain and she has known perfectly well when to leave him alone. 

This week's friday was again such a day where to better leave him alone. While he was bollocking some poor guy from the news agency, she religiously answered all mails, made appointments for him and brought him some biscuits with pretty much the strongest espresso she could make. Like always she acted quietly but with efficiency. She has realised very quickly that Tucker not only needed a secretary, he needed someone, who looked after him a little, so she complied. After cleaning her desk in the evening she gently knocked at his door. 

"Come in, Ms. Cassidy."  
His voice sounded tired.

"Sir, if you don't need anything anymore, I'd like to call it a night."

He looked at his watch before he nodded in agreement.  
"Of course, I have totally forgotten the time…I'm sure you have plans for tonight." 

Quizzically she looked at him. He has never made a comment about what happens after work.  
"Is this some sort of test?" 

"Just wanted to do some conversation about something which is not fucking work-related."  
He really seemed to be exhausted.

"Ok…ahm…well, yes, I actually have."

"Care to enlighten me, missy?"

She rolled her eyes at him while smiling and being utterly confused. She had never seen him on such cordial terms. Normally he refused to spend any time with "fucking useless small talk, which only daft fuckwits make". Of course Malcolm Tucker wouldn't need small talk, he already knew everything about everyone. It was the same with their first conversation when he gave her a perfect description about herself. Perhaps that was the reason for her being so bewildered about his sudden interest in her activities. She decided to take it easy. 

"Sure, in fact I have a date tonight." 

This was the first time this evening he really looked at her. With a raised eyebrow he asked: "I don't recall you being so reticent."

"Well, I don't recall you being so nosy."

"Fucking fuck me. Who is this mysterious guy? Give me something to work with here. I'm trapped in this fucking prison called office and you won't even give me some filthy details. Have mercy, woman!" 

Sam gave a ringing laugh.  
"Ok, ok, his name is Edward."

"Edward…sounds like a fuckhead."

"Hey, Mister, careful now! Edward is no one you want as an enemy. He is quite stern, rude, abrupt and always on the edge of violence, so not someone you should be joking around."

Tucker cocked his eyebrows in his own special way.  
"That sounds an awful lot like me. Sure you got yourself the right man? Don't you want some fucking Prince Charming?"

"I'll admit he may be kind of a jerk, but he's real! Maybe not real real but real enough for me. I don't need some stuck-up, pompous, handsome young man who smoothly says all the right things and doesn't have any personality on his own."

Tucker seemed to think for a split second before he slipped back into his usual demeanour.  
"Fuck, I should have known. You like your boys bad, right?" 

"Haha, Tucker, you're hilarious", she shot back sarcastically.

"No but honestly, is this something serious?" 

"As serious as it gets." She hid her smile well. 

"Cassidy, you fucking surprise me again and again."

"You're welcome. And now excuse me, I really should be going. Mr. Rochester doesn't like to wait." She turned around, leaving the office while laughing with all her heart.

At last the penny dropped and Tucker shouted after her.  
"Fuck, you just fucked me over, haven't you? You talked the whole time about having a date with a fucking BOOK CHARACTER!" 

"Good night, Mr. Tucker!", she replied smiling while leaving the office.


	4. Episode 2 Part 1

Thank you for the kind comments and kudos. I’m officially back with the second episode. Hope you enjoy! :)

\---------------------------------------------------------------  
Episode 2 Part 1

“He is a prick, a useless fucking prick!” 

Sam was sitting at her desk in front of Malcolm’s office and stared at her computer completely lacking in concentration. She normally worked her ass off but today something didn’t sit well with her. Her thoughts constantly drifted off, either to what she needed from the grocery store or why she agreed to a date with her attractive but not so clever neighbor or how Malcolm Tucker’s angry gruff voice distracted her so easily. It was infuriating. Perhaps it was her stupid period which bothered her for the second day now.

Suddenly the door flew open and the man himself stormed out.

“Fucking news are all over Hugh. This is what we’re doing. I’m putting it about through a number of cronies that Hewitt’s piece was a packet of bollocks; he did it as a favor to Cliff, you know, your former boss, Hugh’s predecessor. He and Hewitt are as tight as arse cheeks.”

Sam stared at him slightly irritated.

“Are they now?”

“Fuck knows, but that’s what we’re saying. It’s personal, it’s backslapping, it’s borderline homoerotic and Hugh is an innocent victim of a nasty media stitch-up.”

Sam remained silent fighting back a smile.

“What’s so funny?” 

Tucker actually looked at her now.

“What?”

Shit, Sam didn’t really listen to what he was saying and stupidly repeated half of his question.

“Have you even listened to me?”

“Ahm…yes?”

Tucker raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Then why the fucking question mark at the end?”

Sam adverted his penetrating gaze until she threw her arms up at last.

“Ok, fine, I didn’t pay attention. Sorry.”

“I fucking knew it!”, Tucker triumphantly exclaimed.

“Well…”, Sam began, but neither she nor Tucker knew how to continue the conversation. An awkward silence stretched out between them.

“…so how can I help you?”

It was the best Sam could come up with.

Tucker actually seemed a little lost.

“Right…ahm…call Hugh and set up a meeting with this fuckwit.”

He walked back, halting at his door turning around one more time.

“Oh, and Sam? Get your shit together. Take a fucking walk or whatever your generation does to lose some steam. When you return I need you in your best form, as sharp and witty as ever.”

Sam gaped at him with wide astonished eyes. Finally, he wanted to close his door before noticing her bewildered gaze.

“And please, do us all a favor and get your eyes under control. They go all big and round. It’s like they fucking inflate. Stop doing that.”

He slammed the door behind him while Sam leaned back baffled. She was quite at a loss for words. On the one hand he was right about her being not in her best form but on the other hand what the hell was wrong with her eyes? She really double checked on her mirror, but they were looking perfectly fine. She decided to let it go and do what she was told instead. 

About noon the minister of State for Social Affairs, Hugh Abbot, stood in front of her, sort of anxious, undecided and tired. It seemed that every cell in his body was reluctant to enter Malcolm’s office. 

“Everything alright?”, Sam asked cordially.

“Well, I’m not sure. Depends on what awaits me in there.”

“Don’t worry. He is in a weird but in some way nicer mood than usual.”

Sam smiled at him reassuringly.

“Honestly, I don’t understand how you put up with him.”

“It’s fine. Even a dragon can’t spit fire all day. But tell me, how is your family?”

Hugh and Sam have met a couple of times already. Because she was a very good listener and people generally confided in her very quickly, he told her all about his wife and his two kids at their second encounter.

“I…I don’t really know. I hardly see them these days. Right now, all I do is, I work, I eat, I shower. That’s it. Occasionally…I take a dump, just as a sort of treat. I mean, that really is my treat. That’s what it’s come to. I sit there, and I think, “No, I’m not going to read The New Statesman. This time is just for me. This is quality time just for me.” Is that normal?”

“Well, it’s sad, to be honest.”

Sam patted his shoulder when suddenly Malcolm came out of his office and surprised her for the second time today. She quickly withdrew to her chair while he glared at both of them. 

“What is it with you, today? Just get your head out of your ass. Fucking unbelievable….and you, what are you playing at? Are you playing to be a minister or are you a real-life fucking minister?”

“I’m a real-life minister.”

“Then act like one and cut out the whining. My secretary is not your personal headshrinker. Blimey, am I surrounded by morons?”

He disappeared in his office again. Hugh looked at her apologetically before following him and closing the door. Not long after she heard them discussing about the whole newspaper incident, about culture and about Terri. The walls really were thin as paper around here. 

“She is a box ticket, Hugh, and she can’t think outside the box.”

“No, she has built a box inside the actual box and she is doing her thinking inside that box.”

“Exactly I like that.”

Well, Sam thought, at least something they could agree on. 

“Sorry, I’m so tired.”

Hugh’s voice sounded completely exhausted.

“No, it’s good.”

“So much stuff to read and think about. You seem to get through it, right?”

“Yeah, I find the time, you know? Somewhere…”

After working for him over a month now she could detect the smallest, tiniest disruptions in his voice. She somehow got an expert on the different tones of the one and only Malcolm Tucker. Often days would pass were she hardly saw him, but she would always hear his voice, either while speaking on the phone or to himself. He was like her personal radio, something she could study and interpret when she wasn’t busy herself. Most of the time he just yelled, shouted, insulted, ranted and raved at people but rarely at night, when he thought he was the last one at office, he quietly hummed some melody. Sam loved these tiny moments, where she could listen to him silently. Of course, she never mentioned it, she felt way too much like a stalker. Right now, his tone sounded a little too self-assured. It seemed like he tried to overcompensate, which could only mean he tried to hide the fact, that his day just had twenty-four hours too.

“You get lonely?”, Hugh asked.

Sam subconsciously clenched her jaw. 

“…No…”

His voice quivered there for a moment but gained conviction. Sam exhaled again, not realising she had held her breath. Well, that was settled then. Not lonely. She always had been curious if he had someone in his life. Obviously, he had a girlfriend or wife of sorts. Great, good for him, she thought, no longer following the conversation between Abbot and Tucker. They both left the room some minutes later.

“Good talk, Malcolm, good talk.”

“Don’t go all haywire. It’s like you have ants in your panties.”

Hugh took his leave while Tucker still stood there with folded arms, looking at Sam.

“What happened to you? You look like a fucking cat on hot bricks.”

Sam glared at him in defiance before answering.

“Your offer about the walk, can I still go?” 

The question got out harsher than she wanted it to.

“Yeah, sure.” 

For a second, he seemed to think about something before asking her:

“Ahm…about your mood swings and everything, are your surfing the crimson wave right now?” 

Sam looked at him puzzled.

“What?”

“You know, do you have your arts and crafts week at Panty Camp? Is aunt Ruby visiting? Code Red?”

Sam blushed heavily and got up all of a sudden.

“Does all of this cross your mind spontaneously or do you prepare this silly borderline disrespectful stuff beforehand?”

“Of course, I fucking prepare it, but you have to admit, it’s genius!”

A smug smile played on his lips.

“Sure...apart from the slightly disrespectful part I just mentioned.”

“Hey, but I have hit close to home, correct? It actually is fucking shark week. We’ve all been there, am I right?! Well, I haven’t but I’m sure having the painters in isn’t all bad, right?”

Sam looked at him shirty.

“Again? Do you by any chance have a “Shut-up”-button somewhere?”

“I mean you can tell your boyfriend at least something like: Congratulations. You are not a father.” 

“Ok, I’m out of here.”

She quickly grabbed her coat while Malcolm grinned from ear to ear. Sam couldn’t get out any faster.

“Enjoy your walk, Cassidy.”

Sam trudged out of the building and went straight to her favourite coffee shop around the corner. There she ordered the chocolatiest cake she could find and texted her neighbour, Alex, he could join her for coffee if he had the time and wanted to. She didn’t really think about it, she just did it. Fifteen minutes later he sat across from her, a cheerful smile on his face. He told her all about how happy he was that she texted him. He talked on and on, but she was lost in her own thoughts. Somehow, she managed to smile and nod at the right time, but she regretted texting and inviting him. She mainly blamed her mood swings because now she desperately craved for silence instead of socialising with Alex. Well, now she had to go through with it. After paying he insisted on accompanying her back to the office which annoyed her even more. Finally, at the entrance she could shake him off but only after he suddenly kissed her. It was a very chaste kiss, but it infuriated her nevertheless.

Anyway, Alex was long gone when she decided to head back to her desk. When she rounded the corner she immediately saw Tucker, with folded arms, tapping fingers and very cross eyes, which fixated her.


	5. Episode 2 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your feedback. Here is Part 2. Hope you enjoy! :)

Cautiously Sam went to her desk while avoiding Tuckers penetrating gaze. Something was up and not knowing what made her extremely nervous. Outwardly she tried her best to appear relaxed, but his silence didn’t exactly help.

“I’m back from my walk”, she told him cheerfully. 

Tucker contemptuously snorted.

“Yeah, thanks for the fucking obvious.”

She fidgeted with her fingers. His menacing stare made her really uncomfortable, but she strived to stand her ground.

“Did something happen?”

Tucker laughed humourlessly. 

“Well, isn’t someone brilliantly witty today?” 

“Obviously I missed here something.”

“Yes, you could say that. When you were doing whatever the hell you were doing, all went to shit. The papers don’t like the fucking policy, they hate it, they fucking loathe it.”

His voice got louder by the second. 

“Did they all hate it? I mean, how do you even know…?”

With her smoothest voice Sam tried to reassure him and defuse the situation but somehow it made him even angrier.

“Because I’m connected, bimbo, I’m plugged into the matrix. I AM the fucking matrix. You of all should know that, Cassidy.”

Sam was startled. He has never been this furious with her. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. How can I help?”  
For a moment he paused, seemingly not prepared for her answer. Instead he stared at her fiercely before continuing with his rant.

“It’s too fucking late. The arts policy is already dead. We got a press release, burnt the policy in the oven. Ollie and Glenn would have needed your help with all the phone calls, but you of course had to be away for over half an hour.”

Sam tried to hold it together but now she just had to defend herself.

“Ok, first of all, you told me to go for a walk to lose some steam. Secondly, I was gone for 45 minutes and didn’t take my lunch break today, which takes around the same time. Besides these 45 minutes never bothered you before. I even asked you a second time if I can still take the walk. How the hell should I have known that all of this shit happens exactly at the same time when I am gone?”

Without her noticing he suddenly stood before her, probably trying to intimidate her. Well, he could screw himself, she wouldn’t budge. 

“Well, you are my fucking secretary. So, it’s your job to know when something huge like that happens. Bloody hell, for what do I pay you?”

This was just fucking unbelievable. Exasperated Sam stepped even closer and looked up at him. 

“Probably for enduring your endless rants? Has it crossed your genius mind, that you could have just phoned me? I take it, you have my number, because you constantly call me on my weekends to come in for some work-related stuff.”

Tucker overcame the last distance that separated them, fuming with anger, speaking very quietly now.

“Has it crossed your mind, that I expect you to work for ME, and be there when I expect you to be? That’s what I fucking pay you for, neither for sauntering about with some prick nor licking his fucking face clean right in front of this office.”

Sam’s eyes dilated.

“Wow, just wow. So that’s what this is all about? My private life, which by the way is no business of yours whatsoever?”

“Do you think I care for your private life? I really don’t but you made it my fucking business when bringing all of this pathetic little love story of yours to my doorstep!” 

How infuriating could a man possibly be? She wanted to push him, punch him in the face, do at least something to get rid of all this rage inside of her. She was hot, her face probably all heated up, her breathing was ragged and uneven and her heart seemed to explode any second. Sam was too caught up in this whirlwind of activity and therefore didn’t notice that his chest was rising and falling as fast as hers. 

“That’s bullshit. Again, everything I do outside this building is none of your concern but tell me. How do you even manage normal life when all you do is judge people prematurely? Based on what? The fucking matrix you’re plugged into?”

Tucker angrily snorted again. 

“It’s called experience, darling. Something you clearly lack in. But hey, maybe I’m mistaken and it’s not your sweet little boyfriend, who is head over ears in love with you, but some insufferable ex, an oh so secret affair or you offer kisses to every desperate and needy enough bloke, who just has to ask or pay nicely.”

Now he had just gone too far. The blow didn’t come out of nowhere, but she hit his cheek with all the strength she could muster. Instead of saying anything he just stood there unmoved. There was astonishment but also something else in his eyes, as though he partly expected this to happen. All the rage, the anger and the passion were gone and suddenly they both got very aware of their closeness and moved away from each other, brought as much distance between each other as possible. 

Sam regretted slapping him, but his words had really offended her feelings. That he would even think of her that way hurt a lot. Normally she wouldn’t be so easily bothered by somebody else’s opinion of her, but her working relationship with him, it somehow got important to her over the last two months. She enjoyed the bantering, all the laughing with him but this? Her fucking period didn’t really help matters because she could already feel the tears brimming her eyes. She had to get out of there and away from Malcolm Tucker, who had disappeared into his office. She quickly grabbed her handbag and left without another word. 

As soon as she closed the door to her apartment, she practically bawled her eyes out. She felt stupid, overemotional and above all humiliated. What made Tucker say these horrible things? He has never shown any interest in her private life before, except from that one evening about her date with Mr. Rochester. Why did he suddenly put up a fuss? Sam slumped into an armchair and closed her already swollen eyes. Thoughts like resigning crossed her mind but then again, she wasn’t a quitter. Perhaps tomorrow things would sort themselves out. Due to all the crying and the exhaustion she quickly dozed off. Abruptly she woke up thanks to her ringing phone. Drowsily she reached for it and answered the call without looking on the screen.

“Hey, Sam! Sorry to bother you so late, but we sort of have a situation here.”

Sam, disorientated, rubbed her eyes.

“Who is we?”, she asked, still half-asleep.

“Ahm, you and me, me being Ollie.”

_Of course, it’s work._

“Right, ok. What time is it, again?” 

“It’s around half past eleven.”

Ollie was silent for a moment, before he continued.

“Have you been sleeping already?”

Sam rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you know, normally people go to sleep around this time.”

“Sure, absolutely…sorry.”

Ollie seemed to be unsure on how to proceed. So, Sam decided to push the conversation forward, being a little less unfriendly.

“What’s the situation then?”

He sighed with relief. 

“Exactly, ahm, so Tucker…”

_No, please, not again._

“…he is in a really bad condition and doesn’t accept my or anybody else’s help. He has barricaded himself in his office and even though I tried a couple of times he won’t listen to me.”

Sam groaned.

“And why do you think he will listen to me?”

“Because you are his secretary and the only one, who can reason with him. And you are sort of my last resort”, Ollie explained apologetically. 

Sam really didn’t want to go back to the office. She was tired, her eyes still felt puffy but first and foremost she really didn’t feel like talking to Tucker again. After their argument why of all people should he accept her help? And why should she even want to help him after what he pulled off today? It was absolutely ludicrous. 

“Sam, please, if you won’t do it for him, do it for me.”

Ollie was a nice guy and she knew for a fact that his new girlfriend was probably waiting at home, pissed about him being late again.

“Ok, ok. Give me 20 minutes.”

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

Quickly she changed clothes and got into a comfortable pair of jeans, a beige pullover and slipped into her sneakers. Normally she would never wear such a casual outfit at work but at half past eleven she really didn’t care anymore. After taking the cab she arrived at the office on time, being welcomed by a very desperate and stressed out Ollie. He looked at her a little longer than usually. 

_Shit, I forgot to cover up my eyes…_

Luckily Ollie decided to not comment on it. 

“I’m so thankful you could make it, Sam. Actually, I should have been home three hours ago. My girlfriend will literally kill me.”

“It’s ok, Ollie. Take care of your relationship. But before you go…”

They halted in front of Malcolm’s closed door. 

“…what exactly am I dealing with here?”

“Best you see it for yourself.”

Ollie seemed to be a little embarrassed and couldn’t get out any faster.

“So, best of luck and thank you again!” 

He practically ran out of the office. Sam completely on her own now went through the many possibilities that could await her in there. She decided to not fiddle about and instead get it over and done with. Delicately she opened the door and quickly found Tucker. He sat at his desk. However, his head lay on the table top and his whole body wasn’t really moving. He mumbled something to himself, which she scarcely understood. It sounded like a very dispassionate “Get out!”. It didn’t take Sam very long to grasp the whole situation. On the table besides Malcolm’s head stood a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. Actually, the whole room reeked of alcohol. She immediately knew what she had to do. Swiftly she opened the windows to get in some fresh air. Tucker didn’t seem to be so happy that someone was still in his room and lifted his head. 

“Sam?”, he asked with an extremely slurred voice.

She rushed to his side when she realized that he tried to stand up. 

“Sam, it’s youuuu.” 

He leaned on her because he was way too drunk to stand upright. While supporting him she noticed that surprisingly he was happy to see her. He even called her by her first name although they usually addressed each other formally by their last names.

“It’s me, yes”, she ironically replied. 

He started to grin like a Cheshire cat, not noticing her irony. Normally he had quite a beautiful smile but now it looked more like a grimace.

“Thought, you wouldn’t come back”, he babbled.

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Tucker. Of course I would have come back. I work here.”

It got more and more difficult for her to hold him upright. 

“Come on, now. We have to get you to the sofa.”

He continued mumbling stuff, but she couldn’t really understand what he was saying. Sometimes she would hear her name but that was about it. When she tried to move with him he protested first but soon he made an effort and stumbled across the room while she prevented him from falling down. Finally, they made it and Tucker collapsed into the sofa. In a matter of seconds, he seemed to fall asleep. Sam observed his now peaceful face before lifting his legs on the sofa, so he could sleep comfortably. When she wanted to turn around she felt his soft hand grabbing her own. She looked at him again, his eyes now fixating her. They were filled with regret and sadness.

“I’m sorry, Sam, so terribly sorry.”

He gently squeezed her hand before letting it go. It seemed like he had spent all his energy telling her that. Quickly his eyelids got heavy again. Sam stood there, somewhat perplexed, not sure what to make of his behaviour. It was weird, him being completely drunk but then again saying those few words with a voice as clear as day. Confused she started to clear his desk, throwing away the empty bottle of whiskey and some mandarin peel. 

Suddenly his phone buzzed. Rapidly she answered the call, so he wouldn’t wake up again.

“Malcolm, ey, hope I don’t wake you up.”

Sam instantly recognized the voice. 

“Hewitt, how nice of you to call after midnight.”

Countless times she already had the pleasure to talk with this arsehole.

“Cassidy, what a surprise. Picking up Tuckers phone so late at night? You two must be pretty close already.”

She could practically hear his dirty smile. 

“Sure, if it helps you with your fantasies when you’re all on your own at home…”

“Funny, very funny. So, where is he?”

Sam yawned loudly.

“What do you think? He is at home, sleeping.”

Hewitt laughed high-pitched.

“Sure, he is. Now hand him over the phone.”

“Sorry, pal. Tonight you have to put up with me. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

He seemed to think for a split second before answering.

“Yeah, I’m doing a piece this Sunday on focus groups. It’s sort of inspired by your latest policy disaster. I’m gonna be concentrating on how Tuckers man Abott can’t do a single thing without focus groups.” 

“Uh, I’m sure Tucker will be shaking with fear”, she sarcastically replied.

“Well, that’s sexual jealousy”, he smugly told her.

“Very, very witty, Hewitt. Pity none of it makes it ever into your columns.”

“Listen, I’d love to spend the rest of the evening listening to you, but I got better things to do.”

Now Sam had to laugh out loud.

“You probably know what Tucker would say right now…”

Hewitt sighed.

“Yeah, sure, probably something like “Fuck off, ya twat!”.”

“Probably, so fuck off back to your match reports, Hewitt!”

Sam hung up and looked out of the open window. A gentle breeze stroked her face. Meanwhile Tucker had begun to snore softly. It was sort of comforting, so she listened to him for a couple of minutes before finally getting up. She got a blanket from one of the cabinets and carefully tucked him in. Sam wanted to leave but something held her back. For a long moment she studied his face, the sharp eyebrows, the fine lines between them, the prominent nose, the slightly opened mouth and the greyish three-day beard that started to become apparent. She knew she couldn't go before saying what she had on her mind. He wouldn't remember anyway, so she intuitively touched his cheek tenderly. 

“I forgive you, you stubborn, maddening idiot!”

Eventually she turned around, closed the door and went home to get at least some hours of sleep.


	6. Interlude: Talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your kudos and comments as well as overlooking my English mistakes. Cheers to a new chapter! :)  
> After that whole disaster it is time for some real talk.

Saturday mornings were the best time of the entire week. Sam loved to spend hers in her bed cuddling with Lolita, her beautiful leopard cat while reading and drinking some tea. She enjoyed the silence, the luxury of laziness and the feeling that the entire weekend lay ahead of her. That morning wasn’t different to any other Saturday apart from her sleeping a little longer. Yesterday had exhausted her awfully. However, Lolita wouldn’t have it and soon started to demand her attention. Groggily she started to pet her little diva when suddenly the doorbell rang. Irritated Sam grabbed her phone to check the time. Ten minutes after nine a.m., the screen told her. Well, she didn’t except anyone. Perhaps it was some newspaper guy or someone else who would just try to sell her something. She decided to stay in her bed but unfortunately the doorbell rang again and again. Lolita began to get nervous and hoped off the bed. Well, that was it then. Her wonderful perfect morning going to shit. Grumpily she got up, trudged to the door and opened it wearily. 

“Hello, Miss Cassidy.” 

A very familiar face greeted her. 

“Tucker. What. The. Hell?!”

Sam couldn’t believe her eyes. There he was, standing outside her apartment, HER apartment, the little, down-to-earth apartment, she called her home. It seemed completely surreal to her as though he didn’t belong there. All at once the tall, almighty Malcolm Tucker appeared small, uncertain, almost coy. Also, what was he wearing? Instead of the standard suit-situation he was dressed in a very casual way, cashmere pullover, some jeans. She never would have thought that he even owned a pair of jeans. Besides, he didn’t reek of alcohol. Instead she recognized the faint scent of his cologne, which was actually quite pleasant. He seemed to be his old self again, showered, shaved and most importantly sober. She was still a little pissed off but even though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, he looked quite handsome. Slowly it dawned on her that she on the other hand was wearing her pyjamas and was likely to have the worst morning hair ever because of all the tossing and turning at night. Well, she wouldn’t be embarrassed about it because he was the one showing up on her doorstep unannounced and interfering with her morning. As though he could read her thoughts, he responded to her look of reproach.

“I know, I’m sorry. Presumably I should have called before ringing you out of your bed on a Saturday morning.”

Apologetically he looked at her. 

“Probably you should have”, she retorted unmoved.

Unsure how to proceed, clearly feeling very uncomfortable, Tucker started to fidget with his hands. She waited for him to continue with her arms crossed in front of her, partly because she tried to hide the fact, that she was wearing no bra. After a while he seemed to finally bring himself to talk.

“Fuck, ok. Look, about yesterday…”

“Hiya, sweetie!”

Right, she should have seen that one coming. Of course Alex had to stick out his head just in that moment. Sam rolled her eyes while Tucker looked guiltily towards him. 

“Sweetie…really? That’s the best you could come up with?” With a shake of the head she immediately regretted even asking. She really wasn’t up for anymore Alex drama. Now curious Alex opened his door across the corridor a little more and stepped closer. 

“Oh, I think sweetie fits you perfectly”, he answered, a giant smile plastered on his face.

A side glance at Tucker who was desperately trying to suppress a grin told her what she needed.

“Whatever. I’m occupied. Bye, Alex!” 

Sam brought this awkward conversation quickly to an end, took Tuckers upper arm, pulled him swiftly into her apartment and slammed the door shut in front of Alex nose. She exhaled loudly while feeling Tucker’s eyes resting on her. Without looking at him she could tell he was enjoying himself immensely. 

“So, sweet…”

She interrupted him straight away.

“Don’t even think about going there, Tucker. I warn you!”

He raised his hands in defence while laughing. She too started to smile. Soon she realised they were still standing in her tiny hallway. Even though she could appreciate his intriguing scent of velvety sandalwood, fresh lemon, black coffee and something else she couldn’t quite place they were standing quite close together now. 

Sam cleared her throat.

“Well, now that you have the involuntarily pleasure of being in my apartment, would you like some tea?”

10 minutes later they both held a cup of black tea with a dash of milk in their hands, leaning on the kitchen counter across from each other. Sam observed Tucker carefully over the edge of her cup.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company on a Saturday morning?” 

For a split second she paused before adding: “Or let me rephrase my initial question: What the hell are you doing here?” 

Tucker, unusually quiet till now, finally decided to speak. 

“I’m not good at this shit. Anyway, I came today to apologize for the fucked-up version of myself you had to witness yesterday.”

“Do you mean you being the biggest arsehole on earth or your drunk version, where you couldn’t even walk or talk properly?”

He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Both, I guess. I was a total shitbag and I’m sorry.”

Sam saw the honesty in his blue-greyish eyes.

“Do you even remember what happened last night?”, she wondered.

“Ollie filled some blank gaps, but I don’t specifically recall you being there, just bits and pieces. Your grumpy voice for example.”

She smirked.

“I’m very happy I could leave behind an impression of my grumpiness.”

Tucker cracked a small hopeful smile.

“So, am I forgiven?”

Sam got serious again even though she had already forgiven him last night. Before she told him that she still wanted some answers and a promise. As soon as he noticed her stern expression his – admittedly beautiful – smile died on his lips. 

“There is this one question which bothers me since yesterday. Why, Tucker? Why all the drama?”

A long time he didn’t say anything, obviously thinking about his answer while sipping on his tea. He then put the cup down very carefully and looked squarely into her eyes. 

“I assume you want to hear the whole heart-wrenching, pathetic and absurd truth?”

She nodded apprehensively, noticing the shift of his mood from open to withdrawn, cold and sarcastic. 

“Right, can’t give you that. It’s a lot of crap and heaps of shit but some snippets should suffice. I know, fucking unbelievable but even I have a private life…”

He added cynically: “…at least once every other month.”

“Turned out that that’s too little to obtain even the shittiest relationship. A couple of days ago it reached its expiry date and she left. Me being the possessive prick I am sort of snapped yesterday. Guess, it was merely a matter of time. I saw you with the “sweetie” guy, went nuts and the rest is history. There is your fucking drama.”

He simply shrugged. There was way more to the story, but his wound was too fresh. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it and obviously did it out of a weird sense of obligation. On the one hand Sam was thankful that he at least opened up a little, on the other hand she felt that he was way more hurt than he let show. All the cynicism, the bitterness seemed to be a defence mechanism. Nevertheless, she could put the little puzzle pieces together now. For a moment she looked at him sympathetically. In a situation like this she would normally be caring, ask the right questions and do what most people fail to do properly: listen. However, she had to remind herself that they were not friends, he was her boss for fuck’s sake. Sam therefore tried to diffuse the tension.

“Alright, I have a proposition for you. I promise to never speak about everything you just told me unless you want to talk about it. In return you promise me that you never speak to me the way you did yesterday, and everything is forgiven.” 

She gave him an engagingly smile. 

“I know, quite a lot of “not speaking” involved. If we ever find a topic to argue about again, remains to be seen”, she joked. 

“What do you say, Mr. Tucker?” 

The director of communications, obviously grateful for her light-hearted change of subject, slowly started to smile himself. 

“I think we have a deal, Miss Cassidy.”

“Great”, Sam said.

“Great”, Malcolm answered.

**Author's Note:**

> Love it, hate it? Let me know. :)  
> I'm always happy to hear from you.


End file.
